Just Another Day
by Scales of Boredom
Summary: Their days might sound a bit extreme but it is never truly dull. To them, it's just another day in their "normal" lives. A peek into the crazy days of the Twin Dragons of Sabertooth. Rated K for the twins' colourful language.


**Just Another Day**

**Summary:** Their days might sound a bit extreme but it is never truly dull. To them, it's just another day in their "normal" lives. A peek into the crazy days of the Twin Dragons of Sabertooth.

**Word Count without A/N & Bonus:** 986 words

**Word Count for Bonus:** 308 words

**Genre:** Friendship, Humor

Thank you my lovely betareader, **DemonxHalphas**

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><p>How, oh how the <em>fuck<em> did he managed to get himself into this mess?

There he was, Rogue Cheney of Sabertooth's Twin Dragons, sitting peacefully—and _quite _comfortably if you ask him—on his couch watching one of his favourite Kdramas: _Full House_. A few minutes after the show started, he realized a certain familiar yet foul smell nearing his domain. His nose scrunched up slightly in disgust as he tried to ignore it and just enjoy watching his show.

As the smell grew stronger, he expected Sting to come bursting through their apartment door, slamming it onto the wall. He expected him to be all hyped up about a new book. He _surely_ must have heard about the new bookstore that just opened not far from here. The guy may not look like it, but he is what you would call a "bookworm". But of course, this is only what he expected.

There he was, Rogue Cheney, sitting serenely on his comfy couch, enjoying his favourite show, and the next thing he knows the door was slammed open by none other than the "bookworm" and that he is now here, on a stage in some random building. Rogue _did not_ expect to be dragged into a building and onto a stage, and he _did not_ expect to be in a sunflower costume, and he most _definitely_ did not expect to be wearing a _pink ballerina tutu_.

Oh ho ho, Rogue's certainly making sure Sting's death wish come true.

As he was just about to start looking for Sting, a young woman with light brown hair and warm coffee-coloured orbs stopped him. He studied the woman more closely: she's wearing a pale blue ballerina's tutu that complimented her curvaceous body, tanned tights and ballerina dancing shoes to match, and her hair was pulled back into a messy bun. All in all, she's gorgeous. He suspected her to be a teacher, because of the warm and welcoming atmosphere she gave off like most teachers out there.

"Hello, you must be Mr. Sting Eucliffe, am I right?"

"No. My name is Rogue. Sting Eucliffe is my idiotic partner." He replied along with his usual emotionless tone.

"Oh, my apologies: Rogue-_kun_. My name is Ms. Valerie, and I am the tiny ballerinas' dance teacher." And his suspicions were correct; also did he ever mention that this ballerina group were little kids?

"Hello, Ms. Valerie."

She smiled up at him, "I just really wanted to say thank you." She took a hold of his hands in hers. "If you hadn't volunteered to help, their very first performance would be cancelled. So, I really wanted to thank you, and tell you how grateful I am for your help."

Is this why Sting dragged him here? Because he didn't want his reputation damaged, so he dropped the weight off on him? That _bastard_. "No problem." He wanted to reject her, leave, go home, and forget about all this happening. Truly, he did, but _how_ can he?

A distant voice interrupted them, "Ms. Valerie!"

The said woman sent him an apologetic smile and left to help the children. He just gave her a nod.

A sigh escaped his lips; he guessed he couldn't back out now. If he did, he would be ruining these children's first performance, and they worked so hard. Killing Sting would have to wait.

"Alright, everyone!" Ms. Valerie called for their attention. "Get to your positions! Go, go, go!"

As the curtains lifted up, bright lights filled his vision, and everything after that was a blur.

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><p>A groaned escaped his chapped lips. He squeezed his eyes harder, as he brought a hand over to his temple to ease the sharp pain. After a few minutes of massaging his forehead, he finally managed to crack open an eye.<p>

Rogue realized that he wasn't on the stage anymore. No, he was back home, on his couch. _What the...?_

Rogue was so deep in thought he didn't realize that the door slammed open, revealing a very energetic and joyful Sting Eucliffe.

"Hey Rogue!" Rogue lifted his gaze, only to be startled by Sting and how close he is to his face. He had never seen anything so ugly, and to see it up close too. He thought... he would be forever scarred. He trembled. The image not only burned his eyes, but it burned itself into his brain. _What a nightmare._

Rogue started to shake his head, trying to rid himself of irrelevant thoughts. Sting stared at him as if he's gone mad. "Did you just get home?"

"Yeah. Oh, and guess what! There's this new bookstore and I just..." Rogue ignored him as he continued babbling. He could care less about what the hell he's talking about. He tuned him out, so all he heard now are a bunch of blahs flowing from his mouth.

"Hey, Sting?" Rogue cut him off before he could continue any longer.

"What is so important you had to interrupt my amazing story?" the said man scowled.

"Was I..." Rogue shook his head, deciding that he was only dreaming, "Never mind."

Sting stared at him for a moment before walking to his room. "You're weird."

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><p>Sting closed his door and locked it before falling to his knees, letting out an uncontrollable laughter. He laughed so hard that his howling became inaudible wheezing, his eyes were tearing up and his arms were clutching his stomach. He brought a hand up to his eye to wipe away a tear, only explode into more laughter.<p>

After a few minutes, he stopped briefly to catch his breath, but just the thought of the events that happened yesterday sent him into another fit of laughter. "God, Rogue. Who knew you could be so _amazing_ on stage?"

Their days might sound a bit extreme but it is never truly dull. To them, it's just another day in their "normal" lives.

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><p><strong>Bonus:<strong>

Rogue glanced at the clock. "7:40?!" He hurriedly reached for the remote, and with lightning speed, he clicked the power button. "I missed more than half of the show already!"

Rogue brought his attention to the television, and soon after the sound of the remote making contact with floor and a sweet melody of a children's song was heard. It was not what Rogue expected at all. _This_ was _not_ his show. _This_ was by _no means_ enjoyable or something that is meant to be kept for a good laugh. _This_ was a recorded video of him in a sunflower costume wearing a pink ballerina tutu!

Shortly, Rogue recovered from his shock, and as soon as he did he could feel his entire face heating up from the embarrassment. He bet the colour of his face could rival that of a tomato's. Let's just say, he would—no, can ever _ever _show his face in that theater again.

_Sting is going to die by his hands, surely._

The door to Sting's room flew to the opposite side of the wall revealing a _furious_ Rogue on the doorway. He guessed the cat's already out of the bag.

"Yo, Rogue... Uh, hey. I guess you found out already, huh?" A nervous yet brief laughter escaped his lips as he inched closer to the opened window.

"_Sting._"

As Rogue took a step closer—cracking the cemented floor of Sting's room in the process—Sting jumped out of the window. Without hesitation, Rogue followed. He ended up chasing Sting all throughout town. It was just about nightfall when he caught the _little bastard._

In between the sound of cries for help and moans of pain, Sting Eucliffe still dared to say, "All worth it compared to seeing you be so _amazing_ on stage," which earned him another punch in the face.

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><p>It's been a year (more than a year really) but I'm back! Yay! This story is a little warm up before I continue back into writing my stories.<p>

Anyway, my first time writing humour, how was it?


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